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It’s all about the factors. 2x3x3=18. Prime factorization seems relevant somehow. It is complex and simple both.

I was torn. Do I end on a prime number of 17? An even dozen? A baker’s dozen? Do a multiple of 4? Some popular number like 20? Or by content of a high note? A summative wrap-up, a sort of Cole’s Notes of Cole’s Notes?

What is useful? Once I sort a drawer in my head, maybe the contents can be of use for helping someone else structure their thoughts. “I wrote it down because that is what I do with the things that unravel me.” ~ Natalie Diaz.

“If you want to know how people feel about the colour red, you never show them a colour swatch and ask their opinions. You show them a picture of a guy in a blue sweater, and ask them how they feel about the guy. Then you show a different group a picture of the same guy, wearing a red sweater, and ask them how they feel about the guy.”

So am I looking at colour swatches of my pasts directly? I’m aiming to go wide and catch the therefore implication chains that might explain how I got here.

There are candidates that I’ve talked about before online, or had been. I once did 50 reasons why I don’t have a child but in a backup it was lost. I am heckled by an insightful comment how many years or decades ago of “You don’t have an anger problem? I would say never being angry is a problem.” But then I’ve thought through a lot about safety and threat. That isn’t likely to turn over something else new.

I considered what would be useful to revisit. Writing is a way of making something that no longer matters to you vivid for someone else. Writing is a way to entomb the past in wood slat words. By time I’m aware enough of a factor it’s already passing away again. That’s the kind of star field it is.

I’m still impacted. My turnaround time for acknowledging what’s going on is faster. I may even be approaching my nephew’s level.

When he was 4 he was at the supper table and was asked something like, “What’s wrong champ. You’re not eating. You look sad.”

And he looked up and replied, “Oh, I have a stomach ache so I feel upset because I don’t feel well. But it’s okay. I will feel better later. When I go to bed and wake up I will probably feel better.”

When we walked into his room he said, “I need some alone time right now. When I feel more social I will come find you.”

I’m processing a backlog of decades but I’m getting close to making sense of it all.

I’m not as fast as JayTheNerdKid aka Aaminah Khan, who already has distance and articulacy from under 4 years ago. But I’m scooting along. I was sometimes aware of how I was reacting but didn’t get inward or outward permission for it thus all kinds of things couldn’t exist. And all kinds of tangles of guilt and suppression and projection and deflection, sublimation and other ulcers. You can’t communicate one thing and talk fair if you call up the whole universe of backlog into each subject.

Just the other day I made a screechy roar. And this time, I could reply back to the “what is it lovey?”.

I’m just upset because I’ve had too little sleep last night and haven’t had breakfast or lunch and this software just crashed and I lost all my changes. [and other blurts of factors I was aware of redacted for interest and space here.]

But look at that. A burden dropped in words. Cause and effect. As if that can happen in real own life too. Woo.

I think we’re now descending into orbit of returning to my regular irregular program, or whatever’s next.